


Doom Upon the Herald

by karathegoddess



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age Inquisition - Fandom
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - Doom Upon All the World, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Inquisitor is a Badass, Reaver Cadash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:48:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25585429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karathegoddess/pseuds/karathegoddess
Summary: Hadassah Cadash doesn't defeat Corypheus without a scratch. Through sheer will, she drags herself all the way to help.
Relationships: Blackwall/Female Inquisitor, Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus
Kudos: 10





	1. Solas' Farewell

The Orb crackled with ferocity as it fought between Corypheus’ dark magic and the green sparks. Hadassah Cadash cried out as the same sparks on her hand surged. The Inquisitor couldn’t help, but to feel satisfied at the panic stricken expression across Corypheus’ deformed red lyrium face.  
“Dumat! Ancient ones! I beseech you!” He begged. “If you exist - If you ever truly existed, aid me now!!!” As if in response the green swallowed the red on the orb and Hadassah used it and the mark to close the new massive tear. It hurt even more than it had the first time and it took much effort not to give into instinct to pull away. The sky rumbled as the breach had been sealed onces again the orb fell to the ground with a clatter. Several large stones and chunks of battlements began to rain around them as Hadassah stocked over to Corypheus. He may have been a giant, but she still managed to look down on him.  
Frantically, Corypheus’ long pointed lyrium fingers plunged through Hadassah’s abdomen. She felt her eyes bulge from her sockets, in both shock and pain. She was skewered by Corypheus’ four claws, but as the reaver way had disciplined her, it only fueled her fight. She growled and punched the darkspawn square in the jaw, shattering some of the crimson crystals that porturded from it. He wrenched out his red lyrium finger daggers causing Hadassah to stagger back catching herself on one knee. She stood once more, a dangerous glint in her eyes, that made even Corypheus tremble.  
“You wanted into the fade?!” She mocked, her teeth stained in blood. She let her mark create a rift that began to suck Corypheus inside. He clung to a chunk of rubble, flailing feebly, clawing at the ground in any attempt to escape. He let out a scream before the hungry rift slurped him down.  
The rocks began to fall faster and caused more destruction. A rampart hit the stone floor in front of the dwarf with such impact, Hadassah could feel the vibration all the way through her teeth. It blocked her exit. Her head pounded with the sound of stone colliding. Hadassah hurried to the other staircase, but felt the bricks begin to give away beneath her feet. There was a terrifying sensation of falling before watching debris fly toward her forehead at a record speed.  
Hadassah didn’t think she’d been unconscious for too long. The structure had collapsed entirely, but the dust was beginning to settle. She stood and grunted in pain, attempted to shove her intestine back in her stomach so she could search for her friends. She hoped they were all okay. They just had to be okay. Hadassah pressed a hand tightly to her wound and limped forward.  
She found Solas crouched and inspecting the Orb. What remained of it anyways. It had cracked in many pieces and Solas frowned at the piece he held. He must have sensed her presence or at least heard the limp, because he spoke.  
“The Orb.” He seemed at a loss for anything more.  
“I know you wanted the Orb saved. I’m so sorry.” Hadassah said. She felt so bad. He had really wanted to study it. Perhaps later she could ask him about his wondering of the Fade. That would make him feel better. Though it wouldn’t fix anything.  
“It is not your fault.” He said. Hadassah got the sense he had more on his mind.  
“There’s more, it’s there?” She asked. She wanted to help.  
“It was not supposed to happen this way.” His voice trembled. “No matter what- Inquisitor!” He was interrupted by a wet cough. Hadassah’s knees buckled as Solas lunged forward, narrowly catching her. Alarm spread to his face as he saw the wound on the dwarf’s stomach. He positioned her head on his leg. He wasn’t a healer. He wished he’d paid more attention to such useful spells, but he was always too busy searching for new ways to enjoy or manipulate the fade. He utilized the few he knew. However she needed more help. As he worked she looked up at him with a weak smile.  
“No matter what…?” Hadassah asked.  
“No matter what is to come, I want you to know that you shall always have my respect.” He said. He had slowed the bleeding, but it wouldn’t last long. Surly Cassandra and others had deployed a search party for the Inquisitor by now. Solas felt a tear slide down his cheek. He knew what he had to do. What he had planned to do for so long. He’d just never considered how hard it would be. Especially when Hadassah was so hurt. He gingerly moved her head and layed it back down on the ground. He pressed a light kiss to her temple. “I am sorry.” Solas stood abruptly. “Goodbye, Lethallin.” Ignoring Hadassah’s confusion, he turned and started walking away. He resisted every urge to turn right around and run back to the Inquisitor and stay with her until help arrived. But Solas knew if he did that, he’d never leave. He’d never do what everything else he had done had been for. More tears weighed him down, but he continued forward, hoping with all his heart, the others would find Hadassah with haste.


	2. A Harder Fight

Hadassah was bewildered as Solas hurried away. At first, she thought it was perhaps to get help. But the more his shoulders shook as his pace quickened, the more Hadassah had a feeling that wasn’t the case. She’d have to figure out that later. Right now, she needed a healer and probably a surgeon as well. Hadassah gave up on standing after one attempt. She gripped her injury with one hand and used her other forearm to drag herself forward. It was a painstaking process. Both slow and beyond painful.  
Hadassah started to push past a Red Templar corpse, but jumped as it launched up and grabbed the wrist that guarded her injury, with an ironclad grip, trying to target her weak spot. She struggled before readjusting and twisting the templar’s arm. A loud snap echoed across the battlefield as the Red templar shrieked and clutched his limp limb. Using the new throb in her stab wounds, she gripped the templar’s hair and slammed it against the cement ground until he stopped moving.  
Hadassah scrambled beyond his reach regardless and powered onward, reaching the large staircase and stopped. Hadassah had to lay there a moment and recharge before she could start her slow descent, feet first. Dragging herself down each step. Just as she got into a rhythm, an unstable step sent her hurtling down the grand staircase. The fall left her sprawled at the bottom. Hadassah couldn’t move. She landed awkwardly on her side, her whole body ached, but Corypheus’ parting gift screamed. Hadassah tried to put pressure on it, but the pace blood gushed out had quickened significantly. The hot sticky liquid seeped through her fingers despite the attempt.  
Hadassah had defeated Corypheus once and for all, but would she die on this day as well? It would make sense. If she was the Herald of Andraste, she wouldn’t be needed after Corphyeus was gone after all. Her eyelids felt heavy. But Hadassah wanted to live. She wanted to go hug all of her friends. And Blackwall. Take them all for a round at the tavern, let Varric destroy them all in a game of Wicked Grace. Hadassah fought to keep her eyes open as long and as hard as she physically could. Just when she thought she’d lost, she felt a hand on her shoulder, gently pulling her on her back. Dorian’s worried expression peered down at her.  
“Dassie! Hey, can you hear me?” Dorian removed the clump of stairs that had fallen with her.  
“Boss!” Iron Bull rarely expressed such emotion, but it was impossible to remain neutral while his and his boyfriend’s best friend lay bleeding out on the ground. Dorian went to move her hand, but instinctively thinking of the Red Templar she shook her head and held her hand tighter to the wound. Dorian somehow managed to look even more heartbroken. “Shh, I know, I know. But I need to heal it, Das. Please.” She finally let her hand slack and Dorian wasted no time muttering every healing spell he knew.  
“Amatus! Hold her down.” As soon as Bull had both hands firmly on her shoulders, Dorian cast a spell to remove the red lyrium in the wound. Hadassah let out a blood curdling shriek that made the couple wince.  
“Das?!” Varric’s familiar voice rang out. “Shit.” He said on closer inspection of the blood that seeped out of her at a steady pace. Iron Bull struggled to hold Hadassah down, while Dorian continued with a few spells. Dorian didn’t remove his gaze from Hadassah’s wound while he barked at Varric.  
“Get a healer and a surgeon! Tell the Seeker we’ve found the Inquisitor, but she’s severely injured. Go now!” Dorian demanded. Varric didn’t need to be told twice and turned on to heal in a sprint. Dorian did another spell to clean the wound causing Hadassah to writh in pain. Her throat felt raw from the screams. It was so unbearable, spots began to cover her vision.  
“Dassie!” The voice alone made Hadassah calm ever so slightly.  
“See, Hadassah, now you have a pretty face other than mine to look at.” Dorian joked, but his voice cracked as he did so. Blackwall rushed to Hadassah’s side and helped support her head on his lap. Hadassah tried to speak to him. To thank him for being here, by her side. She needed him. But she could only get out a pitiful sound before she coughed a mouthful of blood. Blackwall stroked her hair comfortingly.  
“Hush, don’t speak. You’re going to be okay. Dorian's got you.” He said. Though it was difficult to say if he had been reassuring himself as well. "I'm here." Blackwall said. He that to her often. Before battles, when Hadassah walked into the room after a business trip, or peeking into the stables. Ever since he had left to turn himself in as he should have done long ago, a fear seemed to settle in Hadassah's eyes. The fear he might not be with her. He knew it brought Hadassah much comfort to just know he was by her side, so he made sure to announce it at any and every opportunity. This one in particular required careful annunciation of each word. She had to know. Hearing those two words from Blackwall's mouth made her shoulder slump as though the words themselves had taken a weight off them. Dorian muttered more spells, then let out a string of curses, a mixture of Tevene and common tongue.  
“I have to cauterize it.” He said. Iron Bull and Blackwall worked together to hold down the dwarf and that was a challenge, as she nearly flung them off several times each. Her screams were so shrill they pierced hearts. It was a blessing really when the pain caused the spots to swarm her vision and cover her in darkness.


	3. Worth the Fight

Hadassah’s whole body throbbed. But she lay on something soft and comfortable. Her eyes felt like glue and it took a few moments to pry them open. She was back at Skyhold. In her quarters. Light streamed through the balcony doors. A fire’s low embers clung to the wood in the fireplace, desperate to stay alight. Dorian was passed out, sitting upright on the bed beside her. Blackwall slept on a chair beside Hadassah. He was stretched forward, his head rested on his arm, pressing lightly against her leg. She studied Blackwall’s face. His wrinkles were softer in his sleep giving him a more youthful appearance. His beard brushed the arm his head laid on. He looked so peaceful, Hadassah didn’t want to wake him. She slipped her hand inside Blackwall’s, her wounds crying out in agony from the small movement. But the comfort of his calloused hand was more than worthwhile.  
She glanced at the mage beside her, smiling a bit at the fact that he lay next to her. Dorian was her best friend, there wasn’t anyone else she’d rather than her best friend and the man she loved staying at her side. The thought of the long hours they would have been awake made Hadassah more certain in her decision not to wake either of them.  
Hadassah lay there for an give or take an hour, reveling in the quiet and the soft sounds of breathing before a polite knock on the door. Neither Dorian nor Blackwall even so much as stirred at the noise. They had been truly exhausted. Hadassah caught sight of two large horns ascending the stairs. The Iron Bull held a tray that looked far too small in his hands, Varric following closely behind with another silver plate with a small assortment of food. Both of their eyes lit up when they saw Hadassah smiling up at them.  
“Boss!” Iron Bull grinned setting the tray down and reaching over Dorian to give her hand a squeeze.  
“I’m not even sure my readers will ever believe me about you trudging through snow all night and escaping from Haven. Now I’m supposed to tell them you held you innards inside you while you crawled all the way down sets of stairs to find help after defeating the talking darkspawn with god complex for good?” Varric smiled.  
“More like falling down the stairs. That might help for realism.” Hadassah’s voice was so raspy, she wasn’t sure it even sounded like her own. Her mouth felt like it had a thick coat of copper as though she had licked her sword. But hearing Hadassah speak at all sounded more than beautiful to her friends.  
“Love?” Blackwall stirred and looked up. He paused a moment and Hadassah wondered how sore his back must have been from sleeping that position. But he didn’t seem to care. He just squeezed her hand allowing their eyes to lock for a moment. Dorian only awoke after Iron Bull roused him.  
“Oh good, you’re awake. About damn time too. You nearly gave me a hard attack. I would have been so pissed if you died.” He said, trying to keep his voice stiff, but there was a lack of malice and a far too relieved look in his eyes for anyone to believe him.  
“Kadan, is she well enough to travel? Not far, just to the tavern.” Iron Bull asked Dorian. Dorian retrieved the healer and surgeon to give Hadassah a check up. The Iron Bull seemingly disappeared. Hadassah hadn’t realized how long of a surgery she had undergone. She’d been unconscious for three weeks, which probably explained the gnawing hunger within stomach. Dorian recorded a list of very specific foods she was permitted to eat, most plain boring ones. But she wanted to recover with haste so she agreed.  
After a few hours, Blackwall helped Hadassah change her bandages as the surgeon had taught him. His big brown eyes lingered sadly at the four puckered scars. Incisions had to be made so they could extract all the red lyrium that had attempted to infect the wound, leaving four diagonal slashes on Hadassah’s stomach. After he secured the bandage, Hadassah placed her hand on his.  
“I’m okay.” She said. He placed a warm kiss to her lips and let his forehead press against her.  
“Liar.” He smiled. “Though, perhaps I am the least qualified for such an accusation.” Hadassah chuckled and tucked her head into Blackwall’s chest. His scent of smoky cinnamon and wood was familiar and soothing. Reluctantly the two parted and Blackwall gingerly lifted the dwarf, one hand under her knees, the other on her back, while she let her head lean against his chest. Blackwall watched for any micro expression that could signal discomfort or pain. When he was finally satisfied he had seen none, he carried her down the steps and past the empty foyer, usually crowded with workers and nobles. Outside the setting sun cast a warm glow on Skyhold.  
Opening the tavern door were all of her friends, many soldiers under her command, and more who all welcomed her. Cassandra quickly pulled a chair out for Hadassah, paying no mind to the man carrying her.  
“Inquisitor-I…” She paused, presumably reevaluating her words. “I am pleased you are doing better, Hadassah.” Cassandra beamed. Sera flicked Hadassah’s arm.  
“Ow! What was that for?!” Hadassah pouted, putting a hand over the small red spot.  
“For scarin’ us all, idiot! Don’t do ‘at again, ya hear?” Sera scolded. Hadassah’s face softened and she pulled the elf into a hug. Her friends and advisor all took turns with hugs and scoldings. For the most part, everyone was just relieved and wishing Hadassah a speedy recovery. Varric started a giant round of Wicked Grace. Cole nearly caused a fuss, revealing that Hadassah was still in a significant amount of pain, which wasn’t wrong per say. The whole ordeal almost caused Hadassah to be sent back to her room to rest. But Hadassah wanted to be here. She needed to be here. Here with her friends. Her family. She looked at all of them from the end of the table, holding cards in their hands, joking, laughter warmer than the fire in the hearth. This.  
This was what she had begged to live for and she didn’t want to miss one second of it.


End file.
